


Jotunheim

by ladylaufeyson1



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Confessions, F/M, Fights, Idiots, Jotunheim, Mutual Pining, Mutually Unrequited, Pre-Thor (2011), Romance, complete idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-23
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-03-03 00:09:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2831003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladylaufeyson1/pseuds/ladylaufeyson1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loki and Sif venture to Jotunheim, having no choice but to finally own up to their true feelings for one another (after a hefty screaming match). The course of true love never did run smooth...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Jotunheim

**Author's Note:**

  * For [garconne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/garconne/gifts).



There was a time, however brief, when Laufey and Odin were at peace; a time when Asgardians could safely travel between the two realms without fear of consequence. Every mid-winter, up until the Frost Giants violated the treaty, Thor and Loki would set off to Jötunheim with Sif and the Warriors Three. Each year, Odin requested they take the hunt as both an opportunity for holiday and to present the fruits of their labor at the annual Yule Feast.

Jötunheim was not the frozen tundra everyone who hadn’t traveled there believed it to be; not entirely, anyway. On the outskirts of the realm, far from Laufey’s keep, the land was lush with greenery and heavy with forestation. Vast rivers that bled into smaller creaks snaked their way throughout the terrain. It snowed almost always, but the ground was warmer than it was inland, therefore there were times the flakes simply would not stick. Game was also plentiful in this part of the realm, and the warriors agreed it was a most exceptional place to hunt.   

On the first night of the journey, after setting up camp deep within one of the many forest clearings, the friends gathered around a fire to share a meal together and discuss their expedition thus far. Sif had hastily prepared a rabbit stew for her incredibly grateful (and incredibly hungry) companions. It wasn’t that they expected Sif to cook because she was a woman; no one would dare suggest that. It was simply that she was the only one that knew _how_ to cook something without burning or under-cooking it. The two princes were useless in that department, growing up having everything made for them while their best friends took full advantage of that. No, if there was anything they would suggest about Sif, it was that she was the most resourceful warrior when it came to food and the most likely to survive in any given terrain.

“Excellent stew, I do say,” Volstagg commended as he scarfed down his third bowl. “Needs more meat.”

“We’ll have plenty of that when we return for the feast, my rotund friend,” Thor jested, slapping him heartily on the back.

“Not like you need it,” Loki muttered under his breath. He was highly irritated by the fact that Volstagg would dare insult Sif’s dinner when he had already eaten most of it.

Sif smiled into her bowl when she heard Loki’s comment, certain she was the only one that did. Since they were young, he was always the first to defend her, even when she was very much in the wrong. He was an ill-tempered git to the rest of them, but was uncharacteristically sweet when it came to her. Until recently.

“Here’s hoping the hunt goes well tomorrow so we can soon make our way off this wretched realm!” Volstagg said, raising his flask.

“I’ll drink to that,” Fandral agreed.

“You will drink to anything,” Hogun retorted, sparking laughter from the rest of them.

“Oh, come now Volstagg, we have only just arrived!” Thor said, ever the optimist. “Besides, it’s not so unfortunate out here.”

“I agree,” Sif said, finishing her stew to look up at the sky as the snow fell down around them. “There has always been something enchanting about Jötunheim.”

“Enchanting?” Fandral laughed into his drink. “You do mean dark, dangerous and ridiculously bitter?”

“I don’t know. It’s peaceful out here,” Sif replied, her eyes briefly catching Loki’s gaze. “Besides, I’ve always had a certain fondness for the cold.”

Loki’s jaw clenched as he looked up to meet her gaze. It had been nearly a month since the two their feelings known to one another; one long, frustrating month of stolen glances and brief kisses behind closed doors. They had kept their secret hidden from the others, unsure of when and how to come out with it. Loki rationalized that it would be best to wait (due to his own insecurities having nothing to do with her), but Sif took that as a sign that his heart wasn’t certain of her. She realized not long after making her affections known that she wanted more; so much more. She wanted all of him, wanted the whole of the nine realms to know that she belonged to him.

In the past week, she had been avoiding him. As miserable as it made her (and it did), she reasoned with herself that if she couldn’t have what she wanted, what she so very much needed, she had no choice but to stay away. Of course, Loki took this as her regretting her decision to be involved with him in the first place and he had barely slept since she decided to brush him off. Every waking hour he wasn't touching her lips simply wasn't worth beingawake for. Their lack of communication was in a word, abysmal.

“Did you know they celebrate something called ‘Christmas’ on Midgard?” Thor exclaimed incredulously, unknowingly breaking the intense moment between the two of them. “Similar to Yule in some ways, I suppose. Each year, they take a tree out of the ground, bring it inside their dwellings and decorate it with strings of lights and baubles instead of offerings for the Gods.”

“I’ve heard a fat man jumps down chimneys, leaving presents for children,” Hogun interjected.

“How do you manage to fit down such an enclosed space, Volstagg?” Fandral howled, doubling over with laughter.

“Yes, I know!” Volstagg thundered irritably. “You’ve made it quite clear that I am fat!”

“All in good fun, my friend, all in good fun,” Thor beamed as he finished his soup, placing the bowl down next to him.

“They also kiss under mistletoe instead of using the plant as a lethal poison,” Sif commented, smiling to herself at such a ridiculous notion.

“Kisses can be likened to poison,” Loki stated coldly, glaring into the flames of the fire before getting up and stalking off in the direction of his tent.  

“What’s wrong with him?” Volstagg inquired.

“What _isn’t_ wrong with him?” Fandral replied boorishly, while Sif instinctively shot him a look.

“Probably just exhaustion,” Thor said, yawning loudly. “We could all do with some rest.”

“That’s not a bad idea,” Sif agreed, suddenly grateful for any excuse to leave the group. She was too seething and hurt by Loki’s callous demeanor to feign cordiality any longer. She stood up from the log, a little too enthusiastically, and ran off in the direction of the woods, grabbing a thick fur blanket off the back her horse along the way. “I’m going to go wash down by the creek,” she yelled over her shoulder. “Don’t wait up.”

As soon as Sif was well out of earshot, Volstagg leaned in closer to his friends, his voice low.

“ _When are they going to realize that we know_?”

Thor burst into a loud laugh, shaking his head, shrugging in amused disbelief.

“I’m beginning to think never.”

 

* * *

 

A few minutes after her departure, Loki walked out of his tent dressed down in a lighter tunic. He breathed in deeply, remembering what Sif had said about Jotunheim. He agreed. The frigid temperatures didn’t bother him – in fact, for some reason he felt more at home here than he did in Asgard. There was an inherent darkness about the place, but it was beautiful; quiet.

He walked over to where the rest of them stood, feeding their horses and cleaning the plates, noticing Sif’s absence before anything else. He suddenly felt ridiculous for the way he had just acted, but the overwhelming resentment he felt towards her for ignoring him the past few weeks had been building. 

 “BY THE NORNS!” Sif suddenly shouted through the trees. 

Loki turned and then quickly glanced back at the others who were hardly paying attention. Their blatant indifference made him momentarily wonder if they had heard her at all until Thor briefly furrowed his brow in her direction.

“What if she’s in danger?” Loki asked him quietly, his voice cool, but his eyes clearly vexed.

“Sif? In danger?” Vostagg laughed. “Nonsense! I’d be much more afraid for the rest of the nine realms with her on the loose.”

“He speaks the truth,” Hogun nodded in agreement.

“It’s not like she’s yelling for us,” Fandral yawned lazily, stretching his useless self out on a nearby log.

Loki stiffened and put his hands on his hips, angrily surveying his apathetic cohorts. “So then, we’re _not_ going to see if she’s being torn to bits by a frost giant?”

“Go,” Thor waved once he saw the outrage on his brother’s face. “See what she wants.”

Loki tried hard not to appear over eager in front of his companions, but as soon he was free from the clearing and into the woods he took off into a sprint. What if she had been hurt? He’d kill every last one of them with his bare hands if something had happened to her. He knew full well that she was capable of taking care of herself, but he would never forgive himself if something had happened to her and he wasn't there. When he finally made his way through the thick brush out onto the shore of the creek, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Sif had waded waist deep into the river, her eyes closed, only her profile visible to him. He watched breathlessly as she took the pins out of her hair, letting the thick raven locks fall delicately behind her bare back. She traced her fingertips over the ripples, lightly at first, and then hastily began splashing water over her skin in attempt to hurry the chilly task along. Loki watched with bated breath as beads of water glistened down her bare breasts in the blue moonlight.

“Damnit,” he whispered to himself. She was breathtaking.

He knew he should look away, respect her privacy, but never before had he seen her in her raw form. There wasn't anything more beautiful in all the nine realms; of that he was certain.

After a minute, he gathered his senses and cleared his throat to make his presence known. She turned half around, startled at first and then went back to washing herself once she saw him.

His anger flared and his stomach turned at her blatant apathy towards him. "Just so we're _very_ clear," he suddenly inquired bitterly, opening his arms and nearly shouting at her. "Are you going to go on forever pretending that I don't exist?"

"Why are you here?" she said quietly, ignoring his question.

"You were yelling," he stated matter-of-factly as if it was an annoying, hard truth that he would always come for her if he thought she was in danger. "The question of the hour is,  _why_ were you yelling?"

“The water–,” she answered after a moment, looking over at him over her shoulder. “It’s not exactly warm.”

Loki paced back and forth on the shore, trying to decide what he currently wanted more; to drag her from the water to ravish her or to wring her neck for scaring him. This woman was a pill, slowly driving him to the brink of insanity.

“Oh, please, may I?” he said angrily, suddenly stopping in his tracks. He crouched down by the edge of the water and held his hand out in front of him, looking to her for approval.

Sif nodded, smiling broadly as soon as she realized what he was offering. He coudn't help but smirk in return at her genuine smile and quickly leaned out to put his hand in the cold stream. As soon as his fingers touched the water, a shower of golden embers shot out in the direction of Sif. It looked as though thousands of fireflies had suddenly turned into fish and were swimming towards her.

 “Oh, Loki,” she moaned, her intense relief apparent. He swallowed hard, watching her longingly as she closed her eyes and melted neck deep into the enticing warmth of the water. The sound of his name rolling off her sweet tongue in such a gratifying way was enough to send powerful waves of desire through him. “Always one of your finer tricks.”

He stared at her, watching her run her fingers up and down her body for what seemed like forever before finally gathering the strength to stand up. _Enough,_ he thought. This was beyond torturous. 

“I'm glad I could be of service, Lady Sif. I will leave you to your bath,” he bowed mechanically, clearing his throat while turning to leave without further thought. She couldn’t be allowed to have this kind of hold on him, not when she wouldn’t give him the time of day otherwise. 

Sif turned around, suddenly realizing that as much as it pained her, she didn’t want him to go.

“What’s the matter, silver-tongue _?”_  she jested flirtatiously in good fun, trying to say anything to keep him from going. “Don’t like what you see?”

 “Not when what I see already belongs to my brother,” he snapped before he could stop himself, turning on his heel to take off into the woods. He was tired. Tired of whatever she was playing at. Tired of his own insecurities which prevented him from telling her and everyone that would listen the complete truth; that he had fallen for her. But in the moment, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her any of it. Instead, he just said the first cockamamie thing that came to his head, dredging up an incredibly painful memory for the both of them; a time when Thor and Sif were betrothed to one another.

Sif bolted out of the water, swiftly throwing her tunic over her head. She grabbed the blanket for extra warmth, wrapped it around her tightly and immediately chased after him, her nostrils flaring with rage. When she finally caught up, she threw the blanket aside and charged at him full force, knocking him flat onto his back. Straddling him, she pinned his hands above his head with one hand while pressing her dagger firmly to his throat with the other.

“I belong to NO man!” she hissed, hovering just inches from his lips. 

Loki paused a moment before daring to looked up at her. Wild strands of long, wet locks danced across his cheeks while the heat of her breath burned his cool skin. The feel of her body weight, her hips pressing firmly into his, her lips so close; it was beautiful. She was beautiful.

“No man?” he sad quietly, ignoring the edge of the cool blade against his neck. 

As she stared down into his gaze, her heart began to quicken and eventually she removed her hold on him. They glared at one another heatedly for what seemed like an eternity before she broke the heavy silence. When she was angry with him, she was seething; but one look too long into those eyes and she was completely done for. She could never stay mad long.

"There was a time I thought I could belong to someone...," she answered sadly. She grabbed the blanket next to her and laid down beside him, spreading the cloth over both of them. It was beginning to snow harder, and her wet hair was quickly turning to icicles.

"Oh?" Loki inquired, not at all surprised by her sudden change of heart. The woman was a whirlwind of emotions, and had been since they were young; he learned to be forgiving of her because he realized he wasn't much better in that particular department. He tentatively wrapped his arms around her, slowly running his enchanted fingers through her hair and melting the icicles until the warmth once again returned to her body.

 "A prince. A kind prince. A brave warrior. A loyal friend. A lovely kisser...," she smiled and rolled her eyes as she glanced up to catch Loki's smug look. She placed her head on chest, listening to his heart beating. She noticed whenever she tightened her grip around his torso, the beats were much faster. She secretly loved knowing that.

"Are we still talking about Thor?" he jested, laughing as she punched him. "Please, tell me more about this prince," he wondered, his face suddenly serious. "Why didn't it work out?"

Sif sighed. "I wanted more from him than he was willing to give to me."

Loki looked down at her arms around him, trying to comprehend how it was that she could possibly find the fact that they weren't together a misfortune. She was stunning; he was average. She was kind; he was an angry git. She was everything good in the nine realms; he was everything wrong with it. She didn't know what she wanted, and he wasn't going to deny her better.

He suddenly felt the need to get up and leave; to run away from all that he was feeling. It was too much.  

"NO," she said, a surge of hurt and anxiety rushing through her."You're not running away from this anymore. I won't let you."

"You're right," he responded angrily, his eyes watering. "You've been doing more than enough running away for both of us lately."

"You're a fucking child." 

He went to sit up more forcefully again, but she pushed him down harder and climbed back on top of him.  _What a stubborn ass,_ she thought.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU WANT TO TELL ANYONE ABOUT US?"

"Because they'd scoff at the idea of someone like you with the likes of me! They'd tell me you'd deserve better, and they would be right! How am I supposed to live with that? How am I supposed to deny you everything you deserve?"

"Who gives a DAMN what they think! What any of them think!"

"We're not supposed to be, Sif," he said suddenly, stupidly, his chest already aching with regret. "You're the beautiful, strong, warrior maiden. Asgard's finest. You and Thor were a match made in Valhalla!"

His anger began to rise at the thought of the two of them together. Anytime the thought of them being betrothed popped into his mind, he needed to walk it off for hours or bury his face in a book. He had always loved Thor, but their betrothal crushed him and made him incredibly bitter. He couldn't reconcile the fact that his brother was to wed that only woman he ever loved, even after they made it perfectly clearly that neither one of them had any interest in it. Flustered and hurt by his own thoughts, he went to sit up, but before he could, Sif pushed him right back down. 

"Please," Sif begged, tears falling from her face onto his neck. "Please don't say that, Loki."

"WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY?" he screamed at her, finally losing any hold he had on himself. His eyes filled to the brim with tears. "That I love you? That I've loved you since we were children?  That the only time I-I feel alive anymore is when I'm close to you? Holding you? That I can't be with you because the moment you break my heart, I-"

 

"I won't break it," Sif shook her head, gently pressing a finger to his lips to silence him; to calm him. She suddenly understood why he had been acting the way he had, and she silently cursed herself for not realizing it sooner. He had always been sensitive, but being the son of Odin, had been forced time and time again not to show it. "I won't break it. If you love me, then you will give me what makes me happy and that is, and always has been, you. 

He suddenly burst uncontrollably into tears, shaking violently and held her tightly against him. 

"I'm sorry," she whispered, kissing his forehead and smoothing his hair back. "I'm sorry. Don't cry. I only left because I thought you didn't care. I know now how very wrong I was. I should have known, Loki..."

"I'm so sorry," he cried, running his fingers through her hair. "My beautiful Sif. I thought by never loving you, I would never lose you. But by my own stupidity alone I almost did. How very much like me."

"No, Loki," she smiled, wiping her own tears away along with his. "You'll never lose me."

After a minute had passed of them holding each other in silence, Loki sniffled and suddenly started laughing. 

"What is it?" she asked, eager to share his joy.

“Look up,” he whispered quickly, motioning with his eyes, beaming as he did so.

She glanced at him suspiciously, bracing herself on his chest to turn around. She smirked as soon as she saw. Hanging directly over their heads, not ten feet up in the air, was a mistletoe plant; shining in the moonlight rays that were washing over them through the trees. 

 "Poison," he said smiling, sitting up to finally draw her lips into his.

 

 

 


End file.
